Archie took the pages and read through them carefully. ‘This implies that Edwards and Jacob Sach were already having an affair before Amelia was arrested.’
‘Yes, but I don’t know if that’s true,’ she admitted. ‘All I will say is that the more I read about it, the more convinced I am that she’s the linchpin of what went on. At best, she knew what was happening and turned a blind eye; at worst, she was involved and got away with it by providing the evidence for a conviction.’
‘But you’re not saying that Amelia Sach was completely innocent, and Edwards and Jacob Sach conspired to get her out of the way?’
‘I wouldn’t go that far, although it has crossed my mind. No, I just think that a lot of people were doing what she was doing, and punishment for baby farming was a lottery, depending on which judge tried your case, whether or not you were allowed a decent defence, and who was around to stab you in the back. Sach and Walters were convicted on the basis of one child’s death, but no one bothered to look into what happened to all the other babies who passed through; on the other hand, some of their contemporaries escaped the gallows because the babies they farmed were abandoned rather than killed—but those children would have died, too, if they hadn’t been found so quickly, so where do you draw the line?’
It was a rhetorical question, but it echoed what Celia Bannerman had said about the police’s attitude to the crime. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘This really helps, and I’ll let you know how I get on. In the meantime, do you know a housemaid called Lucy Peters?’
‘I’ve met a girl called Lucy here a couple of times—I don’t know her second name. What’s she got to do with it? Don’t tell me—she’s Walters’s long-lost niece. It would be just like you to come up with a complete set of living, breathing people and leave me grubbing around in old newsprint.’
He laughed. ‘No, nothing like that—at least I don’t think so. She was a friend of Marjorie Baker’s.’ She looked thoughtful. ‘What is it?’
‘She was up here the other night. She said she’d brought a vase up, but she was reading something I’d written about Sach and Walters, and she was crying. She left before I could ask her what was wrong. In hindsight, I probably wasn’t very kind to her—I was cross because I found her reading my work.’
‘Do you know exactly what she was reading?’ Archie asked.
‘This, I think.’ She sifted through the pages and gave him another chapter. ‘You don’t think she had anything to do with the murder, do you?’
‘No, not really. But I’m hoping she might be able to tell me if Marjorie was up to something that could have got her killed.’ He read what he’d been given, and then said: ‘Of course, if Marjorie had found out the Baker-Sach connection and confided in Lucy, that would explain why this was so upsetting. Can I borrow it?’ She nodded and he stood up to go. ‘I’d better make a move. I need to phone the information about Edwards through to the station, and then I’ve got an appointment at Holloway. Sorry this has been such a hit-and-run visit.’
‘Don’t worry, I understand.’ She thought for a moment, and then said: ‘Would it be inappropriate for me to ask for a lift to Holloway?’
‘Of course not, but why do you want to go there?’
‘Celia told Mary Size what I was doing and she left me an invitation to look round the prison with one of her officers. I’d need to phone to make sure it’s convenient, but the note said to come at any time and just to let her know. To be honest, I’m dreading it, but it seems rude not to go. It might not be quite so daunting if I turn up with Scotland Yard.’
‘That’s fine. I’ll phone Miss Size for you now while you get ready.’
‘Oh, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,’ Josephine said, picking up her coat and gloves. ‘What do you wear to look round a prison, anyway?’
She saw him cast a glance at the gardenia as they left, but he said nothing and she followed him down the stairs. When they reached reception, she saw that the Motleys had already made their presence felt: for the time being, the elegant, ordered atmosphere of the Cowdray Club’s foyer had given way under the strain of rolls and rolls of fabric, half-made clothes on hangers and a bizarre collection of sewing machines and bric-a-brac. It was a shame that Miss Timpson wasn’t on duty, she thought; the look on her face would have been priceless.
‘I’ll go and make the calls,’ Archie said, grimacing at the chaos. ‘See you back here in a minute.’
She found the girls in a spacious room leading off the foyer which was usually used for private meetings. ‘I take back everything I said about this place being deathly dull,’ Ronnie said, dropping the bale she was carrying and coming over to give Josephine a hug. ‘The first thing we heard about when we got here was the fight in the foyer, and we half-wondered if we’d have to slap each other as some sort of induction ritual.’
‘What fight? What on earth are you talking about?’
‘Oh, Geraldine Ashby and the Bannerman woman decided to recreate the Battle of Bosworth in the foyer. The lunchtime queues were getting a bit restless, apparently, so they staged a distraction all of their own.’
‘She’s exaggerating,’ said Lettice, ‘but there was a bit of bother. Geraldine slapped Celia because of something she said, and it was all very public.’
‘Yes, the skeletons are all so firmly out of the closet that we’ll probably end up dressing them for the gala as well,’ Ronnie added cynically, hauling another tailor’s dummy in from the foyer. ‘And if that was lunch, I think I’ll book myself in for dinner now. Which is the best table?’
‘God, I think that might be all my fault,’ Josephine said, and both sisters turned to look quizzically at her. ‘It’s too long a story to go into now, but I’ll tell you later if you’re still here. I’ve got to go out, but I’m so sorry about what’s happened—you must be devastated.’
‘Yes, only we could organise the best entertainment three days before the actual event,’ Ronnie said bitterly, and Josephine saw Lettice glance anxiously across at her sister; as Archie had said, neither of them seemed particularly willing to acknowledge the shock of what had happened, and there was something frenetic and desperate about Ronnie’s movements, as though she were afraid that standing still for too long would force her to confront her grief.
She was about to say something, but was interrupted by a voice from the door. ‘Excuse me, I’m Lillian Wyles.’ Josephine looked up to see an attractive woman dressed in a Motley smock standing hesitantly outside the room. ‘I think you’re expecting me.’
‘Good God, is that what policewomen look like?’ Ronnie muttered. ‘No wonder Archie’s so keen on welcoming them into the force.’
Lettice hit her hard on the shoulder. ‘You’re not supposed to say anything,’ she scolded, and gave her sister a shove. ‘Go and make her welcome.’
‘What was all that about?’ Josephine asked, as Ronnie went over to greet the new arrival.
Lettice looked round as if she expected to find peepholes in the oak panelling. ‘Don’t tell anyone,’ she whispered loudly, ‘but that girl’s one of Archie’s. He’s brought her here to work for us undercover so she can keep an eye on the goings-on.’ They were quiet for a moment as each of them looked Miss Wyles up and down. ‘Ronnie’s right, though,’ Lettice admitted eventually. ‘I can see why he chose her. You’d never guess, would you?’
‘No,’ said Josephine, glancing again at the woman’s wavy nut-brown hair and perfectly made-up face. ‘No, you wouldn’t.’
‘Listen—now I’ve got you on your own for a minute, are you all right?’ Lettice asked. ‘I was worried about you last night.’
‘I’m fine, but you’re obviously not. You’re both trying far too hard to be normal, and that’s ridiculous—what’s happened to you today isn’t remotely normal.’
‘Oh, we’re all right. Ronnie’s worse, I think—I take what’s happened as a tragedy, and she takes it as a personal affront. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she finds the culprit before that policewoman’s stitched her first hem.’
While they were talking, Archie came back from making his calls and Josephine watched as Ronnie did a mock introduction between the two police officers. The woman said something which she couldn’t quite catch but which made Archie laugh warmly, and then he beckoned Josephine and Lettice over.
‘Where would you like me to start?’ Lillian Wyles asked when the remaining introductions were over.
‘You can help us set up first,’ Lettice said. ‘We’ll worry about the sewing later.’
‘Oh, that’ll be fine. My grandmother was a dresser at the Lyceum—I was practically brought up on a Singer.’
‘Bloody marvellous!’ Ronnie said, pinching Archie’s cheek. ‘You’ll be lucky to get this one back by the time we’ve finished with her.’
